


The Things I Want To Do With You

by Owlwithafringe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Baking, Chicken Soup, Cuddling, Established Relationship, M/M, Sick Sam Winchester, Spooning, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4481621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlwithafringe/pseuds/Owlwithafringe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of Sam and Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Fall Asleep In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> There is a post on Tumblr called 'The things I want to do with you', which goes onto list those things. Here is my version for Sam and Gabriel with a few of my own ideas. As it is a list this isn't a flowing story but rather random snap shots at their life with each chapter.

It had been a long and difficult hunt. They’d figured out what it was pretty quickly; a Dragon. The virgins they were stealing made it quite easy to narrow down. It was the killing that was harder. 

Gabriel hadn’t been around, busy doing God knows what – or well, you know whoever may have happened to cast their eyes Gabriel’s way – so it was only Sam, Dean and Cas. What they needed was another dragon slaying blade except there seemed to be few and far between. So most of the time Dean and Sam had been chasing around the town trying to protect all the virgins without getting arrested for stalking and not getting eaten by a Dragon whilst Cas went and hunted across the planet for something that could kill it.

Eventually Cas tracked something down and appeared just in time to stop Dean and Sam becoming a Dragon’s equivalent of take-out fried chicken. They still ended up being a little smoky though, their clothes having a few burnt patches.

Dean, after a quick shower and a change of clothes, dragged Cas out to a bar for ‘celebratory drinks’. 

More like making out in the backseat of the Impala. As if Sam didn’t really know what was going on between Cas and his brother. Did they think he was blind or stupid? Other than them presuming he was either, he didn’t have a problem with it. They made each other happy, something they damn well deserved and Dean would eventually tell him in his own time. Sam just hoped it was before he hit middle age.

Sam gingerly peeled off his shirt, wincing when melted pieces of fabric stuck to his skin. The shirt would be unwearable again in the future but Sam didn’t care too much. He kicked off his pants too, leaving him just in his boxers.

Sam was deeply aware of how much he needed a shower: He smelt like a bonfire and he scorch marks around his body that needed to be washed off, but he just couldn’t bring himself to walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on.

His body ached, completely drained of energy. It was as if someone had just switched on the off button in Sam. His torso was littered with bruises from being thrown around by a freaking dragon, making every movement agonising on his tender ribs. 

He just longed to curl up in bed, burrow himself away from everything outside despite the mysterious stains on the mattress and how scratchy the blankets were. 

There was no elegant way to get into the bed with Sam’s lack of energy so he just let gravity do most of the work for him, and fell face first into the pillows. They smelt a mixture of cheap laundry detergent and cigarette smoke which made Sam roll onto his side so he wouldn’t be subjected to it.

His eyes were glued shut and even if he had wanted to, he doubted he could actually open them. They felt like they were lined with led and then padlocked shut from the outside. He wasn’t particularly complaining since it just meant he would get to sleep quicker.

He had nearly drifted off to sleep, away from dragons and fire and into hopefully something more pleasant when something disturbed that delicate balance that was consciousness and sleeping.

A weight down on the bed was what had disturbed him. He hadn’t hear anyone come in and briefly wondered if it was someone there to kill him but then he realised he was too tired to care so he would just deal with them after his inevitable resurrection and a nap.

Fingers smoothed the hair on his brow away, blessedly cool against his head. They lightly curled his hair around their fingers and it was so nice Sam was nearly purring. If it was someone who was there to kill him, they could totally stay as long as they kept doing that.

“Hey kiddo, are you awake?”

That voice sounded so very familiar but between being half asleep and someone playing with his hair he couldn’t concentrate enough to identify why he knew that voice.

The fingers suddenly stopped and vanished and this time Sam actually let out a grunt of unhappiness. Then the fingers reappeared around his chest hugging him tight against someone’s chest, a nose tickling the back of his neck. A warm sensation travelled through his body at the touch and suddenly everything didn’t hurt or ache anymore. Sam felt himself completely relax into the mattress, so much that in his sleep addled brain he briefly entertained the thought that he might melt into it.

“Gabriel?” He wasn’t sure if had managed English properly but he figured Gabriel would understand what he was saying since he spoke pretty much every language there had ever been. Hopefully ‘half-asleep’ was listed under that too.

“Course it’s me Sambo. Unless you were expecting another dashing archangel to turn up in your bed this evening.” Sam couldn’t see Gabriel’s smirk and definitely wasn’t opening his eyes and turning around when he knew it was there, his voice carrying it.

“Wasn’t expecting you to be honest.” Sam murmured as he fidgeted, trying to get comfortable in the bed again with someone in it now.

The arms around Sam tightened as Gabriel let out a sigh. “Sorry about that kiddo. You know I woulda been there if I could have been. But stuff came up you know?”

“Doesn’t it always?”

Gabriel huffed a quiet laugh making the hair on the back of Sam’s head fly everywhere with each heave. “Yeah, you’re not wrong Sambo. So how was the hunt?”

“Dragons. Blood. Fire. Tired.”

Sam felt Gabriel lean over and give him a light kiss on the forehead. “Yeah, yeah I get it. Humans got to sleep. Tell me all about in the morning, alright?”

Sam mumbled back an affirmation and let himself drift off to sleep, being watched over and protected by his very own angel.


	2. Chapter 2: Cooking With You

In line with Bunker tradition, Dean was normally the one who cooked. He was better at it and for some reason he seemed to find it strangely therapeutic. Yup, Sam knew all about that late night stress baking. 

That’s not to say Sam couldn’t cook. Perhaps not as well as his brother but Sam knew a few things – he had to learn when he left Dean and his Dad that first time. Mostly at Stanford though, he’d lived off of takeaways and microwave meals. That is until Jessica came along. She loved cooking, and she was brilliant at it, always had cookies in the oven letting that amazing smell waft around their apartment. 

It was hard not to pick up her enthusiasm for it so Sam often helped her; the two of them standing in the kitchen together with afternoon light streaming through the blinds whilst she wore his shirts splattered with flour and instructed him what to do. In actual fact he was probably more of a hindrance than anything but they were fond memories of laughter and love in a better time.

Sam still mourned Jessica, even now, but he had gotten over her death a long time ago. Sometimes though, he still liked to bake her cookie recipe. It started off the first few times as being something to comfort him after her death. The cookies themselves usually ended up burnt and charcoaled, completely inedible. It was hard without her.

But then he slowly got the hang of it and each batch would come out better than the last. With each successful tray full the sharp, jarring pain of her loss would mend, piece by piece. It eventually just became a thing that Sam would do rather than a coping technique but he always felt it was a nice way to honour Jess’ memory.

The Bunker kitchen was filled with the same nostalgic smell as Sam worked, relearning the motions. Dean and Cas were out on a case nearby, nothing serious enough that it required Sam to be there too so he stayed behind and started to bake.

He had been working quietly on his own but his hunter instincts immediately made him aware of the silent sudden shift in the air alerting him of someone’s arrival. Instead of acknowledging the new presence in the room, Sam chose to carry on his actions unwilling to give up the peace and serenity of everything just yet.

Of course though Sam should have remembered Gabriel was not the ‘peace and serenity’ type.

“You know I could just snap us up something.” He was stood leaning against one of the worktops with an expression of amusement and confusion.

“I know but this is more fun. Now shut up and help me.” Sam replied not looking from his mixing bowl.

Gabriel sashayed over to him stood pressed up against Sam’s side. An act of obnoxiousness made to look like one of affection. “Oh Sambo, you know it makes me all tingly when you take control like that.”

“Are you going to help then or are you just going to stand there and rub yourself against me like an irritating cat?”

“I’ll have you know I’d make an adorable cat. Yannoe the ancient Egyptians used to worship cats.”

“Is that a hint?”

Gabriel chuckled, deep tones against Sam’s ear. “All I’m saying is your brother isn’t here and there are other things we could be doing that would be a lot more fun mutually.”

Sam paused in his mixing to turn around and look at Gabriel incredulously. “Are you saying you don’t want to eat the cookies at the end?”

“I didn’t say that.” Gabriel backtracked hastily, “And when you put it like that.. Are you going to put sprinkles on them when they’re finished?”

“And chocolate chips.”

Gabriel moaned, long and downright dirty. “Yes, speak dirty to me Sam.”

“You’re insatiable.” Sam replied with a raised eyebrow.

“And you are delicious which is completely unfair. It’s cheating.” 

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I deserve compensation. And an award for my self control. I’m not a saint you know.”

Sam barked out a laugh, shaking his head in exasperation. “No you’re really not.”

Gabriel shrugged, wide eyed and innocent. “Can’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“Well..” Sam replied, his tone saying the words he didn’t say.

“Hush you.” 

Sam straightened up and deposited the mixing bowl in Gabriel’s unexpecting hands. “Here, mix this.”

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a can of whipped cream. Gabriel tilted his head in confusion. “Why do you need that? As amazing as it’d be, you don’t put whip cream on cookies.”

Sam gave him a slow smile. “I have a feeling we’ll need it later. Though the sooner we finish up the cookies, the sooner we’ll use it.”

If Gabriel’s hand then went at an unhuman speed to mix the dough and later used some of his powers to make the cookies cook faster it wasn’t his fault. Like he said to Sam: he really wasn’t a saint.


	3. Chapter 3: Take Care Of You When You Are Sick

“I’m fine.” Sam snivelled, trying to take back the book that Gabriel had stolen from him and failing miserably.

“You’re really not kiddo. You got snot dripping from your nose like a faucet and I know you’re hot Sammy but I don’t think you should be running a temperature.” Gabriel replied, snapping the book away.

Sam pouted, but didn’t argue. He felt truly awful but as usual there was work to be done and he could hardly imagine Gabriel or Dean bothering with something like archiving. “Don’t call me Sammy.”

“I’ll call you anything you want if I can get you to go back to bed.” 

“Now is hardly the time for a come on Gabriel.” Sam replied, ending the sentence with a hacking cough. Ok, so maybe he did have a cold. But he’s had worse. He’s literally survived a year without a damn soul. He could work through this.

“Sorry Sambo, but I like my partners willing and physically capable of actually enjoying it.” Gabriel retorted, “And Sam you literally look like a strong breeze could knock you over. For the sake of the people you would squash and kill if a wind decided to kick up, please go and lie down.” 

“But-“

“No buts.” Gabriel insisted. “Unless it’s your gorgeous butt lying down on a mattress.”

Drastic times called for drastic measures then: Sam employed the puppy eyes. They almost never failed but then again he’d never had to use them against an age-old being. He hoped they would work, but he wasn’t counting on it.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Gabriel pointed out, crossing his arms across his chest. “Who do you think invented that look?” 

Sam rolled his eyes and gave him a look. Its effectiveness was probably limited by Sam having to interrupt his glaring halfway through to wipe the snot that was dripping from his nose. Ok, that was sort of gross. 

“Fine then, you win.” Sam grumbled. Gabriel’s face lit up with delight and he began to usher Sam towards his bedroom. Gabriel snapped his fingers and Sam’s clothes had swapped themselves out for pyjamas. He slipped into bed and Gabriel tucked him with a surprising care, like how a mother would to their child.

“Sit tight Sambo.” Gabriel said, “I’m going to go and make you soup. What flavour do you want? Chicken? Tomato? Gabriel’s special surprise soup?”

“What’s the surprise?”

“I can’t _tell_ you, that ruins the surprise!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll have the chicken soup please. If that’s not too much hassle.”

“Duh. Archangel.” Gabriel reminded him. “The only thing I can’t do is find where the hell my old man fucked off to, so unless you need an audience with God, you’re pretty much good for anything.”

Sam smiled tiredly. “No, I’m good. Just an audience with some chicken soup. And maybe some tissues? My nose feels like Niagara Falls.”

“Pleasant imagery kiddo.” Gabriel replied but snapped a box of tissues on Sam’s bedside table. “I’ll be back in just a mo.”

He disappeared through Sam’s doorway and Sam relaxed into his bed. It was so soft, softer than normal – probably Gabriel’s interference – and Sam was so tired. He’d just close his eyes for a moment. That’d be fine.

“I make you soup and you go to sleep? Talk about rude much?”

Sam jerked awake, his heart pounding from the surprise. There enough stood Gabriel by the side of his bed, a bowl of steaming soup in hand. Sam rubbed a hand across his face, trying to clear the traces of sleep away.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Only a few minutes or so. I think you were just dozing.” Gabriel shoved the bowl of soup into Sam’s hands. “Here, have some soup.”

Sam took a spoonful and blew carefully on it, trying to cool it down before taking a mouthful. The flavours hit his tongue and he was pretty sure he was groaning it was so good. He began to eat it eagerly, as fast as he could without burning his tongue.

“That is some of the best soup I’ve ever had. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Of course I can, I’ve been around since forever.” 

There was something about the way Gabriel said it that made Sam pause mid mouthful. He glanced down and then back up at Gabriel.

“Why does an Archangel who can create anything out of nothing, hand make me some soup?” Sam questioned.

“Because I love you?”

Sam looked distinctly unimpressed. “Uhuh. So you didn’t just snap it up?”

“Well.. I didn’t say that.” 

“If this wasn’t such good soup,” Sam said around a spoonful, “Then I’d probably be angry that you cheated in making it.”

“I never cheated! I just used the resources closest to hand.”

“Shut up and get in bed with me.”

Gabriel put a hand against his chest, like Sam had offended his sensible capabilities. “I’m not that sort of girl.”

“This soup is nearly finished and then I’ll be cold again. You are a furnace; therefore we are going to spoon.”

Gabriel crawled into bed alongside Sam and made himself comfy as he waited for Sam to finish his soup. “I knew you were only using me.”

Sam mustered a weak smile, “For your soup and warmth. Obviously.” His hair was in disarray and his eyes were bloodshot and bruised from lack of sleep, not to mention his nose was leaking gallons of snot per minute, but Gabriel couldn’t think of seeing anything more beautiful. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel shrugged, smiling widely in return, “I can live with that.”


	4. Chapter 4: Cuddling

Sam closed the next book with a sigh. Another dead end. He knew hunting wasn’t all glamour but endless book reading wasn’t how Sam had planned to spend his evening, despite what Dean would say otherwise. 

But no, he was stuck researching so no-one else died whilst Dean went out and did God knows what. In fact, no, God probably didn’t know what. No pressure on Sam though. None whatsoever. Of course not.

Sam heaved the next book on the list onto the table in front of him. It was thicker than the last four books put together and infinitely dustier. Always a fantastic sign. He just prayed to whoever was listening these days that it wasn’t written in Latin. He really didn’t need a headache on top of an already crappy evening. 

He signed again as he opened the front cover of the book. He wondered if humans could die from sighing too much. He seemed to be testing the theory tonight anyway.

Sam almost jumped out of his skin when two arms wrapped themselves around his torso, winding underneath his arms. He quickly melted into the embrace though when he realised who it was.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He commented, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back against a warm chest.

“I’m not surprised. I could barely hear myself thing over your stressing. You’re wound up tighter than a jack in the box. What’s got you all in a tizzy?” Gabriel replied.

“This case. The answers somewhere here in these books I know it, but I’m stuck here looking for it on my own.”

“Where’s your brother?”

Sam snorted and tilted his head upwards to look at Gabriel. “You really want me to answer that?”

“Remind me to have a ‘word’ with him later. You need to relax.” Gabriel commented, perching his head on top of Sam’s. 

Sam closed his eyes and enjoyed it for a moment before snapping out of it. He shook his head. “I can’t. I relax, people die.”

“Not even for me?”

“Not even for you.” Sam agreed.

“Not even for me,” Gabriel continued as if Sam hadn’t spoken, “Who happens to know what monster it is that you’re hunting today.”

“You know you should have opened with that. I would have been a lot more receptive to your advances.”

“I like to keep things interesting.” Gabriel snarked playfully. 

“So?” Sam prompted.

“So?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “What is it that we’re fighting?”

“I’ll tell you if you agree to stop for the night.”

Sam turned around and buried his head into Gabriel’s torso, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I hate you.” His voice was muffled through Gabriel’s clothing. “Fine.”

Gabriel smiled in victory and fiddled with Sam’s hair between his fingers. “It’s an Angiak.” 

Sam ripped himself from the embrace. “An Angiak? I should’ve realised.” He turned back around in his seat and picked up one of the books from the pile and started to turn page after page obviously looking for something specific now he had his information.

Gabriel rolled his but smiled fondly at Sam. You couldn’t take the hunt out of the hunter. He snapped up a chair next to Sam, and a strawberry lollipop. It was going to be a long night and he had plenty of quips to annoy Sam with.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave kudos and comments, feedback is always appreciated and motivates me to write more! Come and find me on Tumblr at **[Owlwithafringe](http://owlwithafringe.tumblr.com/)** , to see updates on fics or to leave me a prompt.


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